


overflowing

by ShowMeAHero



Category: IT (1990), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Amputee Eddie Kaspbrak, Canon Disabled Character, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Humor, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Smut, Trans Eddie Kaspbrak, Trans Male Character, Trans Male Eddie Kaspbrak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:13:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26501197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: Eddie squeezes his hand and starts to pull away. Richie tightens his grip, doesn’t let go; instead, he tugs Eddie’s hand over the table so he can kiss the back of it. The way Eddie looks at him behind his glasses, his brown eyes so honeyed-warm, makes Richie melt.“You know,” Richie tells him. “You’re just about enough to make a man want to leave the sunny Hills behind for the cold east coast again.”
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 13
Kudos: 113
Collections: it (1990) one-shots





	overflowing

**Author's Note:**

> written based off a prompt i got on tumblr that read: _"For the prompt thingy... I was wondering if you might be willing to do something with miniseries Reddie with Richie bottoming for Eddie for the first time? Idk I headcanon them both as switches but there is pretty much no miniseries!Richie bottoming ever and I have a need.[Thank you already in advance. 🙏 I love all your writing so much."](https://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/post/629451622422118400/for-the-prompt-thingy-i-was-wondering-if-you)_

Richie can hardly focus on dinner when Eddie’s just sitting there, looking how he does.

He’s just glad they didn’t go out for dinner tonight, because he doesn’t know how he’d have managed to get all the way back home without taking at least eighty percent of Eddie’s clothes off on the way. It’s about all he can take to just make it through to dessert.

“Do you know how handsome you look like this?” Richie asks. Eddie’s face goes pink, and he looks down at his dessert fork, tracing the tines along the edges of his plate.

“Richie,” Eddie admonishes him.

It’s true, though. Eddie’s as impeccable as ever, in a white sweater that Richie hasn’t gotten to touch yet, but,  _ God,  _ it looks so soft, Richie wants to get his hands on it. He stitched up the left sleeve himself, neatly tucked out of the way. Instead, Richie takes Eddie’s right hand in his, loosens the fork from his grip and threads their fingers together on the tabletop in Eddie’s kitchen.

“Because I don’t know if I’ve got the words to describe it,” Richie continues. “You just look so good—”

_ “Richie,”  _ Eddie repeats, but his face is all red now, when they look up at each other. Richie can see the blush goes all the way down past the high collar on his sweater. “Please, you’re embarrassing me.”

“In front of who?” Richie asks.

Eddie doesn’t answer, just squeezes his hand and starts to pull away. Richie tightens his grip, doesn’t let go; instead, he tugs Eddie’s hand over the table so he can kiss the back of it. The way Eddie looks at him behind his glasses, his brown eyes so honeyed-warm, makes Richie melt.

“You know,” Richie tells him. “You’re just about enough to make a man want to leave the sunny Hills behind for the cold east coast again.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, his grip on Richie’s hand tightening inadvertently. “What?”

Richie turns Eddie’s hand over so he can kiss his palm, his lips brushing steering-wheel calluses when he says, “You’re right. You’re more than enough—”

“Do you mean it?” Eddie asks.

“I’ve never meant a word I say,” Richie jokes.

“Oh, you—”

“But I mean this,” Richie continues. “I’m serious, Eds, I don’t want to leave you behind. Being so far apart all the time is just— It’s the worst. I think it’s starting to give me an ulcer.”

“It is not,” Eddie replies. “You just don’t take care of yourself.”

“So I need someone to take care of me,” Richie says.

“I hope you don’t think that someone is me,” Eddie replies.

“Oh, of course not,” Richie says. “I know exactly what to expect from life with you, Daddy Warbucks.”

Eddie makes a face at him that makes Richie’s chest clench, and he kisses his palm again, burying his face there. His slender fingers stroke Richie’s face, his thumb gliding along Richie’s cheek. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Takes one to know one,” Richie replies. He lifts his head and says, “I’m serious, though. You know how good you look tonight? You know what you do to me? ‘Cause I just— I want to tear your sweater off of you and just go nuts on you, you know that, right?”

“I’m starting to realize that,” Eddie says. The teasing smile on his face makes Richie’s blood sing. “Do you want coffee?”

“Do I want  _ coffee?”  _ Richie asks. Eddie just keeps smiling at him. “No, I don’t want  _ coffee, _ Eds, I want  _ you.” _

Eddie’s pretty face goes pink all over again. The way Eddie looks at him is turning Richie inside-out; he has no choice but to get up from the table and go to Eddie’s side, pulling him to his feet and against his chest. Eddie tips his chin up so they can keep eye contact. He’s at least half a foot shorter than Richie, but it just makes him itch to have Eddie’s hand all over him.

“Can I take you on a walk?” Richie asks. “There’s a bedroom in the back of this place with a view I think you’re just gonna love.”

Eddie separates their hands so he can secure his at the back of Richie’s neck, squeezing there before he threads his fingers through his hair and guides Richie down into a kiss. His hand is a searing point of heat cradling the back of Richie’s head, his nails scratching his scalp. Richie feels like his arms are on fire; he has no choice but to wrap his arms around Eddie, his hands on his hips, and hold him as close as he can while they kiss.

That fire spreads through him so wildly fast he can’t control it. He pulls Eddie’s hips flush to his; he’s already half-hard, and the movement drags Eddie’s thigh under his cock, and he  _ groans,  _ deep in his chest.

“That feel good?” Eddie asks, voice rasping.

“Better than I can even tell you,” Richie says. He cups Eddie’s face in his hands and kisses him again, spreading Eddie’s mouth open, licking languorously along his tongue. Eddie sighs, in the back of his throat, and all languor is gone almost instantly. They separate just long enough for Richie to tell him roughly, “I’ve got such a crush on you.”

Eddie hooks his fingers in Richie’s belt and tugs him in close. He unbuckles it deftly and unbuttons Richie’s pants without even looking down. Instead, those big, dark eyes stay focused on Richie’s face until they slip closed as they kiss again.

Richie’s so focused on how dirty Eddie turns their kiss that he doesn’t realize what Eddie’s doing until his hand’s around his cock. He gasps into Eddie’s mouth, eyes flying open.

“Hello,” Eddie says with a smile. “About that walk?”

“I’d walk on  _ water  _ for you right now, Eddie,” Richie tells him. He doesn’t even think he’s joking; he can tell Eddie feels it, too, because he surges up into another hot kiss, his thumb stroking over the head of Richie’s cock.  _ “Oh,  _ hey, Eds, if you don’t want this to happen here, you’re— you’re gonna have to get us moving sooner rather than later—”

Eddie withdraws his hand from Richie’s underwear and loops his fingers through his belt loops instead. They don’t so much walk down the hall to Eddie’s bedroom as it is that Eddie smoothly guides him backwards and Richie stumbles after him, just trying to keep up. Eddie pushes him backwards over the edge of his bed, but Richie goes willingly. He’s never been in a bed as comfortable as Eddie’s; his sheets are the silkiest, his pillows are the softest, and Eddie himself makes Richie happier to get in a bed than he ever has been before.

“C’mere,” Richie asks him, reaching for Eddie’s wrist. Eddie evades him, slipping just out of his reach to go to his closet instead.

“I thought maybe we could try what we talked about last night,” Eddie suggests. Every word he says shoots directly to Richie’s cock, and he nods eagerly, sitting bolt upright in Eddie’s bed. “Would that be okay?”

“That would be more than okay,” Richie assures him. “That’s— That’s a  _ hundred  _ percent okay, that’s pretty much the best thing anyone’s ever asked me in my life.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a little dramatic?” Eddie asks. Richie leans forward to watch him pull out a neat little case from his closet, wrapping his hands around his own ankles to keep them from fisting in Eddie’s nice sheets.

“You,” Richie tells him. “When I was eleven. And fourteen, and sixteen, and—”

“That’s because you were born dramatic,” Eddie cuts him off. He sets the case beside Richie on the bed and snaps it open. For a moment, he doesn’t move; then, he spins the case so Richie can see its contents. “Look okay?”

Richie reaches in, just barely letting his fingertips brush over the synthetic head of Eddie’s strap-on cock. It’s smooth like silk under his touch, just like Eddie’s skin. In the next beat of his heart, Richie wants, more than anything, for this to be on Eddie and  _ inside him. _

“Yes,” Richie replies, choked, when he realizes Eddie’s still waiting for an answer. “That— That looks beautiful, Eds, good choice. Suits you.”

Eddie laughs, pushing Richie’s hands aside. He lifts the cock up out of the box easily, and Richie wants to scream, realizing Eddie’s done this before. He’s not expecting Eddie to turn it over to him, but he does.

“Hold that,” Eddie tells him. He backs up, just a couple of steps, then pulls on his sweater until it’s free of his tight pants. The soft fabric slips up over his freckled skin, hiding his face for a brief flash before he’s free of it. When the entire expanse of Eddie’s slim chest is revealed, Richie’s mouth goes dry, his grip tightening on Eddie’s cock.

“I love you,” Richie says, breathless. Eddie huffs a laugh as he bends to tug his pants down his legs, over his sock feet. Those come next, along with his sock garters, and his undershirt and shirt garters after that. Richie watches every piece unsnap, every bit of fabric slip away from Eddie’s skin, without touching  _ him.  _ All he can do is sit there and  _ watch  _ and try not to get so turned on that he tears apart Eddie’s dildo with his bare hands.

“I read in a magazine once not to trust any man who says he loves you while you’re having sex with him,” Eddie informs him. “Should I be concerned?”

“No,” Richie says. “‘Cause that only counts for men who  _ only  _ say it when you’re having sex with them, not for men who tell you every time you walk in the room.”

Eddie grips his tight black underwear and steps out of them, putting himself all on display, a yard away from the tense pretzel that Richie has become on the bed. Richie unfolds, just as much as he can, and props his chin up on his bent knee, eyes skimming over the blonde hair between his legs before darting back up to his face. He finds Eddie already looking back at him, his attention burning Richie’s face.

“That’s not to say it’s not well-earned during sex, though,” Richie adds on. Eddie laughs, stepping closer to Richie and setting his hand on Richie’s knee, pushing it away from his face. Richie gets the hint and plants his feet on the ground, lets Eddie step between his spread thighs.

Eddie takes his cock back out of Richie’s hands. With it, he takes the leather harness from his case, and Richie’s breath hitches in the back of his throat. His vision blurs; he rubs his eyes under his glasses, glad he wore them instead of his contacts. He wants to see as much of Eddie as he can as he pulls his harness into place. If Richie wasn’t as turned on as he is, he’d ask him to go slower so he could watch the show, but right now he’s just interested in the main attraction.

From the way Eddie’s tearing at Richie’s blazer, yanking it backwards off his arms, he feels pretty much the same. “Can you get this off for me, honey?”

Richie nods, letting Eddie back up a step so he can hurriedly half-sit up in his bed and undress himself. Eddie reaches for his bedside table, rooting through the drawer sightlessly until he withdraws their lube. The pleased shiver that runs down Richie’s spine is immediately chased away by the warmth of the kiss that Eddie gives him in the next moment.

“Sit back,” Eddie murmurs near his ear, voice low and rumbling. Richie hurries to do as he’s told, scooting backwards across Eddie’s silk sheets until he’s propped up in the pillows, back against the headboard.

Eddie settles between Richie’s legs, spreading his thighs apart smoothly. He sits back on his heels and looks him over, surveys him; Richie breaks out in goosebumps all over.

“Eds,” he manages, choked.

“I’ve got you,” Eddie tells him. He snaps open the lube and spreads almost more than he can fit in his hand. One slick finger slides into Richie easily, to the first knuckle, then the second. Richie exhales, trying to relax. “Honey, I’ve got you. You’re alright.”

“Sorry,” Richie apologizes. “It’s been— It’s been a while.”

“Take your time,” Eddie murmurs. He bows over Richie, burying his face in his throat, biting with those sharp, neat teeth of his into his flesh. Richie groans, falling back into the pillows again. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Eds, if you stop now, you’ll be widowed,” Richie tells him. Eddie huffs a laugh, sliding his finger out so he can slip two back in.

“That requires us to get married first,” Eddie says. He spreads his fingers apart, scissoring Richie open in long, sweet movements of his hand.

“Who’s to say I wouldn’t?” Richie asks. Eddie pulls his hand out to coat his fingers in more lube, three fingers coming in the next time to open him up, his fingertips stroking over Richie’s prostate. Richie moans, head falling back in the pillows, his eyes slamming shut as heat flares through his whole body.

“I got you,” Eddie murmurs, kissing the soft space behind Richie’s ear. He nips his earlobe, then strokes his prostate again; Richie can feel his smile curve against his cheek when their faces smush together. Richie separates them just long enough to kiss Eddie again. He  _ burns  _ when Eddie works his prostate, bites his lip, swallows the moans that tear out of Richie’s chest.

“Eddie, come on,” Richie begs him. Eddie separates them again.

“Are you sure?” Eddie asks. “You sure you’re ready?”

Richie considers a whole rush of jokes and remarks before he settles on, “I’m ready. I’m ready, Eds, I want you more than anything.”

The smile Eddie gives him is worth the stress of being genuine. He feels hollow when Eddie pulls his fingers free, but he’s filled with anticipation at watching Eddie coat his cock in lube. It slides down his wrist and drips onto his fancy sheets — the ones Richie’s terrified of tearing or staining, but Eddie doesn’t even blink at it. Eddie’s grip and his cock are both slick, Richie’s entrance is  _ dripping  _ wet, and he thinks he’ll  _ die  _ if he has to wait another second.

Eddie grips his cock in his hand, guiding the head of it to Richie’s entrance. His doe eyes flicker up to meet Richie’s, sweat smearing his glasses, before darting back down to watch the strap-on slip into Richie inch by inch. Richie can feel every bit of it inside of him, spreading him open and splitting him apart. He scrambles to cling to Eddie, wrapping an arm around him and tugging him down to hold him close.

The motion pushes him all the way into Richie, and Richie inhales sharply, his breath catching in his throat as lust and fire and a small point of pain rocket up his spine. He chokes out,  _ “Eds,”  _ and Eddie’s hand flies up to cup Richie’s face.

“I’m so sorry,” Eddie tells him breathlessly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” Richie says. “I’m okay, I’m okay, just— Just gimme a second here, okay, lemme just get used to it for a sec.”

“Take your time,” Eddie murmurs near his ear. He keeps perfectly still, holding Richie close, arm wrapped around him, hand clutching the back of Richie’s head and cradling it with firm warmth. The burn inside him is so good,  _ so  _ good, but it takes a second to adjust to before he can breathe again, shoulders relaxing.

“Okay,” Richie manages. He sighs, then lifts his head, reaching for Eddie’s hip so he can hold it tight in one hand. “Okay, c’mon, I’m ready. Give it to me—”

_ “Richie,”  _ Eddie laughs. He turns Richie’s face towards his and kisses him, soft at first before he quickly deepens it, licking behind Richie’s teeth, diving in to kiss him as hard as he can. Richie surges up to meet him, tugging Eddie’s hips down into his.

“C’mon, Eds, you can fuck me,” Richie tells him. “I’m ready now, c’mon, you can move, Eds,  _ move—” _

He’s cut off with a choked gasp when Eddie listens to him, pulling out nearly all the way before thrusting back in. Eddie groans, head dropping between them. Richie threads his free hand through his sweet blonde hair and hangs on fast, relishing in the way Eddie keens at his tight hold.

From there, Eddie finds an easy rhythm, a steady pace, and fucks Richie harder than he thinks he’s ever been fucked in his life. Eddie takes him apart bit by bit, each thrust making fireworks shoot through his entire body, exploding in his stomach and his chest and his head, he’s  _ obsessed.  _ He’d do this every second of every day if he could.

“I love you,” Richie tells him again, desperate, his voice hitching in his chest. Eddie swallows the end of it, catches the  _ you  _ in his mouth and kisses Richie so hard it feels like his tongue and his cock meet inside him. He cries out, clinging to Eddie as tight as he can. Richie feels his orgasm building fast when Eddie hits his prostate, and he grabs his chin in his hand, holds him tight in place as their kissing turns sloppy, clumsy, wet.

“I love you,” Eddie breathes. He kisses to the hinge of his jaw, mouth open there in an almost-kiss on his skin as he tightens his grip around Richie. His thrusts don’t falter, but his breath catches in his chest, and his hips stutter in their movements as he’s wracked with his own orgasm.

Richie hangs onto him as Eddie gasps through his orgasm, his chest heaving. He keeps up his rhythm as best he can until Richie falls apart, too, his entire body coiling tight before he just  _ melts,  _ all the tension seeping out of him as his orgasm hits him. Eddie kisses the hinge of his jaw, his cheek, the side of his nose.

“Oh,” Richie exhales, “my  _ God.” _

“Was that good?” Eddie asks. “How do you feel? You feel good?”

Richie huffs a laugh, his hands shaking. He feels like his whole  _ body  _ is about to start shaking, too, just falling apart at the seams. He’s grateful when Eddie gathers him up and holds him tight, kissing his hair.

“Rich?” Eddie asks, voice shifting towards an edge.

“Eddie,” Richie says. “I gotta— I swear, I’m marrying you the  _ second  _ we’re allowed. I want to lock you down.”

Eddie lifts his head, propping himself up on his hand, elbow bent on his soft pillows. His smile makes Richie’s inside twist weakly, still wrung out. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Richie echoes. He leans in and kisses Eddie, soft and slow. “I want you to make an honest man out of me, Eddie.”

“Oh, sure,” Eddie says. “You set before me an impossible task—”

Richie growls, burying his face in Eddie’s throat and rolling them over so Eddie’s on his back, nice and smooth so Eddie’s cock stays seated deep inside him. He gathers Eddie up in his arms and kisses him all over his face, kisses his throat, can’t get  _ enough  _ of him. Eddie’s smile curves up under his lips, and Richie smiles into the kiss just the same.

“How soon will you be ready again?” Eddie asks. Richie laughs, dropping his weight down onto Eddie, burying his face in his chest. He enjoys listening to Eddie’s heart  _ racing  _ under his ear.

“Let me put my organs back in place and I’ll get back to you,” Richie tells him. Eddie huffs a laugh, too, before he guides Richie into another slow kiss, still smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> You can (and should!) come chat with me on Twitter at [@nicole__mello](https://twitter.com/nicole__mello) (new @!) and/or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


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